


Edward Nygma Isn't A Squip

by Payingthisrent



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Gotham (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Be More Chill au, Bullying, Canon Autistic Character, Canon Disabled Character, Drug Use, F/M, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Mental Instability, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Theatre, let oswald say fuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2020-01-17
Packaged: 2020-01-24 08:49:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18567973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Payingthisrent/pseuds/Payingthisrent
Summary: Ed wishes he could do more than survive, Oswald just wants to listen to emo music and be alone (not really), and everyone else makes their life a living hell.This fic is closely based on the musical 'Be More Chill'. While it can be read without prior knowledge to the play, I highly recommend listening to it as BMC is one hell of a play and I adore it.





	1. More Than Survive/Edward's Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> Although this is based off the musical, not all the characters have a set counterpart, and some characters jump around from person to person.   
> I really hope you enjoy this as I'm having a great time writing it, this is the first fic I'm posting here (alas I used to be a wattpad kid)   
> Thank y'all for reading!!

If there was a God, Edward Nashton was cursing them. Usually, he floated by, but his morning had been terrible. His first mistake was not expecting his father would go through his bag twice in a week and the man had found the flyer for the school play Ed had grabbed from the library. The reaction was harsh, and Ed missed the bus cleaning his split lip and the contents of his binder that was seemingly strewn across the kitchen floor. Only having to use public transit as the ugly, lime-green PT Cruiser he’d gotten for his 16th birthday was out of commission, again. Not wanting to be later than he already was, he wasn't able to properly ‘discharge,’ and now he was at higher risk for public embarrassment. Ed did a quick check that he had everything, wallet, phone, keys, and a granola bar for the way. Couldn't afford to be calorie deficient so early on in the day. 

Walking to school in Gotham presented its challenges, being as tall as he was Ed was rarely targeted for muggings but that wasn't to say it never happened. Managing to make it to school 15 minutes late and 40 dollars short, he was lucky that his first period was science as Professor Essen actually liked him and he didn’t have to go out of his way to grab a late slip. His feet were three steps ahead of his body, and he caught the toe of his shoe on the stair edge, pitching him into another late student.

"Don't touch me tall ass!" A gruff voice said as the boy he now knew to be Bullock shoved him into a locker. Ed assessed the damage with an experimental wiggle of his jaw, nothing broken, good. Stumbling to find his glasses was awkward due to the fact he was practically blind without them, his hand hit something that skittered into his lap, and he quickly slid them onto his nose. Now he just had to make it into the classroom. 

Essen stood at the front of the class explaining gravitational fields; his dishevelled presence earned him a few snickers and an exasperated sigh from his teacher. She motioned for him to take his seat and before he could sit, one of the teenagers behind him snagged his chair, and he hit the ground with a loud thump. Ed probably made more of a commotion as he scrambled to right himself; at this point, the entire class was laughing; he could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. Nobody offered to help him gather the spilled contents of his pencil case, nobody asking him if he had hurt himself. Ed hated this school. 

“So Selina said Lee told Jim she would only go out with him if he beat her score in gym class-” Barbara Kean was talking loudly enough that Ed couldn’t ignore her if he tried, Selina tried to jump in, but the older girl snapped at her. “-I’m telling the story, Selina,” Cat walked away with a scoff “As I was saying, then she botched her score, on purpose.” That was unfortunate; he was surprisingly fond of the leather-clad freshman. Reminding himself that the kitty could lick her wounds alone, Ed kept his mouth shut but still gave the girl a sympathetic glance. “Oh my god, he is totally getting off on this, ” Tabitha cackled at Barbara's joke, Ed just rubbed at his eyes from behind his glasses and tried to focus on his already finished worksheet. One more period till lunch, he would be able to read his book away from these idiots.

Edward sat at his usual table in the back; he rummaged through his backpack to find a book he had seen on the Salem trials and cozied in with his Mountain Dew. The soft light from the window was comforting up until he saw Jim Gordon and Harvey Bullock making their way over to a boy in black that sat by himself in the parking lot. Curiosity piqued, Ed watched from the safety of the cafeteria. The kid pulled off his hood and hung his headphones around his neck. From behind the window, Ed couldn’t hear them, but he assumed they were insulting the poor kid. He was pretty sure that his name was Oswald, the two of them had English together. Ed hoped that he was stronger than he looked, he knew first hand how bad punches from Gordon and Bullock were. Oswald struggled to stand on his own, even then the boy barely made it to his attackers’ chin, he still looked determined to put up a fight. What looked to be Oswald’s unfinished Slurpee had been left forgotten on the ground beside a small pile of textbooks. Jim pushed him back by the shoulders, he wobbled but stood his ground, Harvey tried next and managed to slug Oswald hard enough he hit the pavement. This seemed to satisfy the football players, and they left without a glance back. With a big sip of his soda, Ed tried in vain to shake off the thoughts of how many times that had been him, he desperately wanted to run out there and be a comforting presence but he wouldn’t. Nobody ever helped him off the ground.

Needing something different to look at he scanned the room for- There. Kristin Kringle, the love of his life. She had her hair pulled up into a ponytail, the red ringlets cascading down her back. Ed couldn't help but let out a happy sigh and continue to grin. In his opinion, the company she kept was horrible, sitting at a table surrounded by the rest of the sporty kids, they were all obnoxiously laughing about something when Kristin stood and sauntered toward the bulletin board. People cheered as she signed her name, the school play was a surefire way to be bullied but not if you were as gorgeous as Ms.Kringle. Ed knew what he had to do, watching his feet as he shuffled less confidently toward the poster. Entirely on auto-pilot, he picked up the pen and signed his name with a flourish. Edward Nygma, he could be someone new, he would be someone with a story. 

“GAY!” 

Ed just smiled; he liked the sound of his new name too much to care.


	2. I Love Play Rehearsal/Oswald VS Everybody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll try to update weekly, but with everything going on, it might be a little irregular.   
> Warning!! This chapter uses some homophobic slurs accompanied by a bit of bullying.

He had yet to find out if signing up for the play was worth it, the bullying had worsened, and now he was so stressed about his father finding out, that he had gotten an 87 on his last math quiz. All week Ed had been trying to figure out what they were planning to perform and who else signed up, the only things he had been able to discern were, the play was a musical, Ms.Mooney was directing it, and he was quickly regretting putting his name on that list. This Friday was the first rehearsal, acquainting himself with the cast, learning names, and getting the feel of the stage. He’d had to make a stupid excuse as to why he would be late, telling his father he would be at a friends house checking out a new video game sounded accurate, aside from the fact he had no actual friends. 

 

Friday morning came and went, classes going as well as usual, lunch was a bore; he’d finished ‘The Art of War’ for the eighth time with enough of the period left to run to his van and exchange the book for something slightly newer. In his hurry to get there before the bell, Ed tripped on a familiar puddle of black clothes. Oswald had been sitting on the pavement step leading into the parking lot, Arctic Monkeys clearly being blasted in his bright purple headphones. Long legs collided with a solid body and Ed was pitched forward onto the concrete. He laid on the ground for a second, shocked, before slowly leaning forward and finding himself staring into a pair of equally startled, green eyes.

“You spilled my fucking slushie. Walk next time, or better yet, look where you're going.” Oswald poked at his leg accusingly, and Ed realized he still had the limb sitting in the other boy's lap. He scrambled to put himself in a less precarious position and nearly kicked Oswald in the jaw in the process. “You owe me a new Slurpee, blue, for preference.” He’d forgotten about the spilled drink and was now acutely aware of how cold his leg was. 

“I’m- Uh, sorry about that,” Stuttering through his words as he stood, examining the damage to his slacks. Electric blue liquid stained the entirety of his left thigh. Oswald’s expression had changed from mildly pissed to incredibly amused. Before he could do anything else to embarrass himself, Ed shuffled away towards his car, trying in vain to breathe and cool his face. That had to be one of the most appalling encounters he’d ever had, and the additional discomfort of the sticky drink seeping through his pants made it worse. He unlocked his van and determinedly began rifling through the neat compartments that he kept in the trunk, pushing past stacks upon stacks of books to get to the bag of spare clothes and toiletries he’d packed if he ever had to spend the night elsewhere. Sensing a presence behind him, Ed turned and was once again staring into those wide, mascara framed eyes. 

“How are you going to deal with those?” Oswald stood a few feet behind him, hand on his hip and gestured to Ed’s sugar stained slacks.

“What has legs, no bones and can’t walk unless it’s going the same speed as you?” Tone confident, a grin creeping its way onto his face at the other's loss for words. 

“Did you just ask me a riddle?” Finally feeling the fabric and marvelling at how perfect the timing was, Ed dramatically pulled the extra pair of pants from his bag and held them up for Oswald to see.

“Pants!” Somehow smiling wider, “The answer is pants, do you like riddles?”

 

Oswald rarely felt the urge to befriend someone, but this lanky kid with his button-up shirt and glasses intrigued him. He was a stereotypical nerd, but the way his meticulously styled hair fell in front of his eyes in soft curls and how his smile took over his face when he grinned. Os didn’t even know his name for god’s sake. Then the mysterious boy was rushing off, he hadn’t even realized he had followed him till he was glaring at a hideous green van. In the back of that monstrosity was an alarming amount of books, was he trying to set a new world record for possession of the highest quantity of textbooks? When the kid finally straightened up and pulled those pants from the trunk Oswald had to swallow, he hadn’t realized how tall the other was. Already incredibly aware of how short he was, standing in front of this human cell tower made it a hell of a lot worse. When elongated Barnes and Noble connoisseur began taking off his pants, Os just about died on the spot. He supposed it was to be expected, his own slushie was covering the pair that now occupied the parking lot concrete. Trying to avoid staring at how absolutely long those legs were, Oswald began rambling about whatever came to mind first.

“I don’t think I’ve introduced myself-” He went to extend a hand but thought better of it, the boy was too busy buckling his belt to shake his hand anyway. 

“Oh, I know who you are,” The statement was quite ominous when paired with the largest grin Os had ever seen, he tried to object, but the boy continued with a stutter. “Well not who you are exactly, but a textbook version. Your name is Oswald Cobblepot, but on the records your surname is Kapelput,” This kid sure knew a lot. Before he could question anything, the lunch bell rang, and encyclopedia on stilts smirked and walked away leaving Oswald to question everything he had ever known. 

 

That was probably the coolest thing Ed had ever done, not even tripping on the step back into the school could take his win away. Now he just had to deal with the rest of this day, and then he would see Kristin, what he was not expecting was to walk into the drama room after class, immediately be grabbed by Miss.Mooney and shoved into a seat before he could introduce himself.

“Now that Mister-” She paused, doing a double take on the class list. “Nygma has arrived, we can do the introductions.” Her brightly painted lips were pursed, Ed had heard rumours of the infamous, haughty Madam Mooney. He was completely willing to believe every word. “In this class, you are not my students, but my muses. You will refer to me as Fish or Miss Mooney.” Some girl was looking at her phone when Fish grabbed the offending object and dropped it behind her. “Attention will be paid in full, if you’ve come to this extracurricular to ‘jerk off’ and waste my time you can find your own way out. I am a professional, and this class will reflect as such.” Her presence commanded focus, Mooney just had the authority to command a room to complete silence. “I understand if you are inexperienced, if you are new to theatre, but you must drill this into your skull, I will hold you to the same standard as I hold my other employees. Perform well or don’t perform at all-” As she finished, a sarcastic clapping filled the room and all eyes turned to stare at the boy sitting in the back of the auditorium. 

“Great, Fish. You scared them straight. Now can we get to the production? I’m dying to know what play we’ll be butchering this year.” For the second time that day Ed was stuck staring at Oswald, who was leaning his chair back and watching the class with a sneer. He wished the other boy wouldn’t balance the seat like that, just the simple act made him cringe. Everyone worriedly looked back to Mooney, waiting for the insubordinate student to get his ass handed to him. The tirade never came, Fish simply smirked and took attendance. Reluctantly taking his eyes off Os, Ed listened to all the names being called and mentally filed them away for future use. Confused when he didn’t hear Cobblepot, he glanced back at Oswald but was met with the sight of the raven-haired boy with his headphones on, playing something on his phone that looked suspiciously like pac-man. When he heard his new name, he perked up.

“Nygma?”

“Present!” He saw a few other students cringe at his overly enthusiastic tone in his peripheral but mainly kept his eyes on Miss. Mooney. She narrowed her eyes, which Ed noticed, were afflicted by heterochromia. One brown, one blue. The list came to an end, and everyone stood up, followed Fish toward the stage and listened as she explained stage direction. Ed stayed toward the back of the crowd, content looking at the students when he was reminded of why he signed up in the first place. Kristin Kringle, in a tight yellow pullover and a pencil skirt. In an effort to move closer to the young woman, he sidestepped but tripped on another student’s foot. Attempting to counterbalance the momentum, Ed grabbed onto the first shoulder within his reach. Which happened to be Tom Dougherty, one of the football players that hung around Kristin. Ed managed to stand straight but was immediately shoved to the ground by Dougherty.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing fag?!” A foot found its way to his ribs, and the air forcefully left Edwards lungs, diaphragm having been slammed a bit too hard. Waves upon waves of nausea crashed into him, and he had to hold back the urge to vomit. Just as he thought he could handle taking a breath, another kick was swiftly delivered. “C’ mon riddle-boy, get up and fight me like a man.” With as much subtlety as someone could manage while getting the shit literally kicked out of them, Ed snatched his glasses and tossed them a couple feet away. He could afford a new pair, hell, his father could probably buy the store, but he didn’t want to explain why they had gotten broken. The last time he came home with mangled frames and cracked glass, his glasses weren’t the only thing that got injured that night. Ed had managed to curl himself into a ball but that just diverted the focus of the kicking to the general area where his kidneys were. The sounds of shuffling and footsteps grew closer and then the kicks stopped. He froze momentarily to make sure they had actually stopped before looking up and seeing the backside of Oswald as the boy stood in front of him, shielding him from Dougherty’s attacks.   
“Just another faggot protecting his boyfriend. Is ‘My Chemical Romance’ holding a concert or something? You look like you walked out of a graveyard, queer.” Tom shoved Os by the shoulders, but before he could deal any substantial damage to the boy, Fish stepped in. 

“Mr.Dougherty, I would appreciate it if you didn’t assault any more of my students. Seeing as you’re so good at using your feet, why don’t you use them to walk yourself to the office.” Her tone was wildly unnerving, dragging out the consonants dramatically. Dougherty sneered at Oswald and immediately got flipped off. “Nygma, you alright?” Her earlier inflection was gone, and she offered him a hand up. When he finished standing, a boy with no hair practically threw him a sticker covered water-bottle, Ed recognized a couple band logos and bar insignia. Trying not to think about all the bacteria he was most definitely ingesting, he took a swig. A few breaths later and he gratefully smiled at the people who surrounded him. Fish clapped her hands and gestured back to her desk where a foot tall pile of scripts lay. “Now that that mess has been dealt with, who’s ready to hear what production we’ll be doing!” Cheers erupted from the group. Ed’s grin grew as his beating was quickly forgotten, nobody cared, but this time it wasn’t because they couldn’t be bothered to, it was because they were genuinely excited about something they were all going to be a part of, together. 

They were gathered around Fish’s desk when Ed heard a scoff behind him. 

“Nygma, huh.” Oswald had his arms crossed, staring up at him incredulously. “Sounds fake but whatever.” Ed went to speak up but was immediately shot down. “Don't think that meant anything, ” Os’ eyes skirted down, and he crossed his arms defensively. When Ed tried to step closer, the other boy glared at him and tilted his jaw. “Since you know so much about me you should know that you're standing too close.” Throughout this entire exchange, Edwards grin hadn't wavered. He glanced down at their feet and took an exaggerated step back. 

“Did you know that My Chemical Romance broke up in 2013? So there's no way they could be holding a concert for you to attend.” This was apparently the wrong thing to say as Ed received nothing more than a sneer. “The band didn’t even tell Frank, who ended up finding out through twitter-” He was gearing up to go into a full out rant about the band when he saw how utterly defeated Oswald looked. 

“How do you know that? You really don’t strike me as an MCR kind of man.” Ed briefly thought that with his eyes narrowed and hip jutting out, Os looked like one of those sassy toddlers that pouted when their parents said no. 

“I like Gerard’s comics.” Stating simply, he didn’t need to tell Oswald that occasionally he blasted the punk rock music when he’d had a particularly bad night and needed to go out for a drive. The shorter boy looked like he was about to say something else, but a short whistle cut through the group of students and Fish stood behind her desk handing the stack of scripts out to the kids. 

“This year we shall be performing a musical titled ‘Falsettos’ You have precisely one week till the next rehearsal to acquaint yourself with the script, and I recommend finding a video of the play to see it more in depth.” Mooney rolled her eyes and stormed off without a parting glance. Ed looked over the script and furrowed his brow at the vulgarity of the first song. All his peers were leaving, and he watched with a small smile as Kristin sauntered away. The way her curls bounced while she walked, the click of her heels on the dirty plastic tile of the school, he could, without a doubt, watch her for hours. He thought about leaving her a note, slipping something clever into her locker. 

Not expecting to be grabbed as he left the classroom, Ed was startled as he felt hands pulling him none too gently into the men's washroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Ozzie is a bit standoffish, but his little gay heart doesn't know what to do. 
> 
> Next chapter includes, but is not limited to, choreographed kick-lines in a high school bathroom, dRuGs??, and an appearance from some of our other favourite characters.


	3. The Squip Song/Who Let These Kids Have Drugs??

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As you can probably tell by the updated tags/chapter title this chapter is heavily focused on drugs, none are used but the implications are there (This is in no way angsty though) I think I might start posting some sketches I've done for the characters in this, hopefully that's something you guys want to see. Feel free to comment, tell me what you like, what you want to see, and what you don't <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been tough to write, mainly because I didn't want this to be ~too~ OOC.  
> Zsasz and Ivy have my heart. Although they weren't main characters they really made the show so much better and I want them in this fic as much as I can.  
> Anyyywayyys. I hope you like this, sorry about the wait. Love y'all and I hope you enjoy!!

“You know you have blood on the collar of your shirt.” Sitting on the sink counter of the restroom was the boy that gave him the water earlier. Ed had never seen him around the school, he had no idea who this kid was or why he pulled him in here. The boy got up and smacked Edward on the back while he sauntered to the urinal, Ed immediately recoiled at the abrasive touch and glared at the offender as subtly as possible. “You’re literally a giant, “Feeling quite awkward at the fact that the boy kept a conversation while peeing, Ed picked at his nails, and the boy was still rambling on about something or another. “If you slouched more maybe you’d blend in.” 

Blood raced to Ed’s cheeks when he heard the sound of the kid’s fly unzipping, yes, he was in a washroom having a conversation but he hadn’t expected to be listening to someone berate him for his posture as they urinated. His eyes found some random sharpie drawing on the counter, and he began filing through facts to distract himself, as his mind raced around he heard something that intrigued him. “You weren’t this tall in freshman year,” He whipped around and caught sight of this kid’s hands, now without the leather gloves, pulling his fly up. As he washed his hands, Ed couldn’t help but notice the scars that covered his wrists and forearms.

“Did you go here in freshman year? I’ve never seen you before” The boy just smiled and patted Ed’s back a little too hard. He led him toward a bag that sat on the floor of one of the stalls. The scar-addled boy gestured for him to look inside, but the thought of all the high school kids that trampled in here and probably peed on the tiles for fun discouraged him from touching the duffel bag.

“You just don’t remember me back then,” Now seeing that Ed was not, in fact, going to touch his germy bag, he sighed and reached for it himself. “I’m Victor Zsasz, and this right here is the next big thing.” He pulled the zipper down, but before he opened the bag, he turned and gave Ed an eery grin and grabbed hold of his shoulder. “Let me paint a picture for you,” Ed tried to contain the look of discomfort at the hand that grasped him, attempting to seem chill at the contact when it just made him want to scrub away the skin where he was touched. “Freshman year, I had no clue where I was going to be, I needed guidance, and that’s when I met her. When’s the last time you smelled roses, like, real roses.”

Not one for a loose memory, Ed remembered the exact time he had last smelled roses. The night before his mum left, his father had bought her a bouquet. She had kneeled in front of his younger self and held the flowers to his face. Then she was gone, he had kept those beside his bed until his father stormed into his room and threw them to the ground.

He turned to Victor and gave him a forced smile, trying to gently shake the grip the other had on him. “She smells like roses, brings them to school and hangs them in her locker. Makes these, just for me, and whoever I think should use them.” Finally opening the duffel bag fully, Ed peered inside and saw hundreds of capsules, carefully packaged into neatly counted baggies.

“What-” Before he could ask, Zsasz tightened the hold he had on him and leaned closer. At this point Ed’s mind felt fuzzy, not being able to handle the touch he stood abruptly and breathed in slowly. Reciting the names of bones by alphabetical order in his head to calm himself, he got to femur before Victor rose to stand beside him, still gazing longingly at the contents of the bag.

“They clear your mind, help you retain information, move the right things around. You’re already smart, but this would make you a genius.” He’d heard enough, the final comment undershooting his intelligence was the last straw.

“Thanks but I’m going to have to pass on your drugs,” With a final push he got past Zsasz and tried to open the door, but his path was immediately blocked. A small bag containing a few of the pills were dropped into his hand and pushed closer to his chest.

“Just think about it,” Ed grimaced at the baggie and reluctantly nodded at the boy. He turned and rushed out of the bathroom, nearly colliding with a red-headed girl that stood outside the bathroom, being all too conspicuous for Edward not to believe she was eavesdropping. With a sympathetic smile, she shrugged and motioned for Ed to follow her.

“Sorry about Victor, I get he can be a little much sometimes.” The creeper in question had emerged shortly after himself, unblinkingly gazing at the young lady as if she hung the stars in the sky. “I heard what you said about my supplements. For your information, they’re all natural, no chemicals whatsoever,” With a smile, Zsasz leaned back in and held the bag up in front of Ed’s face.

“They’re better than drugs, Edward.” Ivy grabbed both of the boy’s shoulders and pulled them towards the girls’ locker room. Although classes had ended and there was a very slim chance anybody would be in there, Ed still felt like he was violating someone’s privacy going inside. The two students that were dragging him beyond the door obviously didn’t seem to mind.

The red-headed girl undid one of the lockers and snatched a visibly homemade pamphlet, the letters scratchily coloured with markers and folded unevenly. She skipped back to the bench where Edward had been shoved and handed him the leaflet. He glanced up, and they were both staring at him expectantly, waiting for him to take a look. “‘Ivy Pepper’s Miracle Mind Supplements’ “Even the title sounded fake, these were either sugar pills or someone had gotten hold of some type of cocaine. “...And you give these to students?” Zsasz shrugged, and Ivy placed a hand on Edward’s knee, leveraging herself to dramatically whisper in his ear.

“Only the special ones, Eddie” He had to hand it to Victor, she did indeed smell of roses. “Just read through it, you can take a baggie and sleep on it.” With that Zsasz shuffled out of the room, taking Ivy’s hands in his and twirling her as if they were waltzing. She hummed a slow tune, and they continued to dance until the tempo of her humming changed and Victor began beatboxing poorly. Edward just sat in shock, watching the two dance as if he weren’t sitting there waiting. They had such a positive aura, and as creepy as they were with their drugs and afterschool walks in empty bathrooms, he couldn’t help but grin at them. Ivy laughed as Zsasz proceeded to moonwalk out the door and salute at Ed, she turned and waved goodbye, leaving him alone in the changeroom with a bag of pills. He pushed his glasses up and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, today was a gosh-darn mess.

 

Today had been a fucking mess, Oswald could barely think with the headache he had, the fluorescent lights the school deemed appropriate weren’t helping either. He almost smiled when he heard familiar voices and laughed under his breath when two dancing figures came skipping down the hallway.

“Good afternoon, old friends,” Ivy squealed when she saw him and ran a little bit faster, practically leaping into his arms. Zsasz was more composed but still clapped him on the back as soon as he was within arms reach. “What are you still doing in the godforsaken hellhole the city calls a school,” He supposed he could be less dramatic but where was the fun in that.

“I could ask you the same question Pengy,” Turning to glare at Ivy and instead just managing to get his nose bopped. Zsasz giggled, and Os had to count to ten, he loved these two with his whole heart (not that he would ever tell them that), but he wasn’t exactly known for optimism.

“My stash is in the locker room,” Crossing his arms and hoping they got the message that that was all the information he was offering. Zsasz being himself didn’t pick up on it.

“Stash of what?” As much as he appreciated the boy, Oswald was prepared to stab him. The last time he shared his weed with Victor, he brought booze and Ivy mixed the pot with some other herb that fucked them all up. The night ended with Zsasz carrying Ivy on his back, climbing out his bedroom window, and Os telling his mother about wanted to get penetrated by the captain of the football team. He really didn’t want a repeat of that night, it was Friday after all and Victor was notorious for inviting himself over.

“None of your goddamn business,” Oswald swatted Zsasz’ hand away and continued walking. This was apparently enough for the other boy as he shrugged and sauntered away, Ivy wasn’t that easily shaken off though. She followed him a few footsteps until he turned dramatically and gave her a sarcastic smile. “I do appreciate you, but I will not hesitate to-” Before he could finalize his threat she shot him a look that utterly stumped him.

“Pengy-bear,” He would have to talk to her about the cutesy nicknames again. “If you ever need something stronger than your mom’s weak ass medical stuff, you are aware I grow my own. Hit me up, baby boy.” He hated to admit it but the freshman was growing on him, he’d miss her next year. In an attempt to be nonchalant he rolled his eyes and blew her a kiss, but Os should have known it would backfire, the girl practically sobbed and threw herself in his arms. “AWW! I LOVE YOU TOO PENGY!”

“I told you to stop calling me that,” In a moment of weakness he wrapped his arms around her, his nose crinkled in distaste, the kid smelled like a garden.

 

Oswald had made it to the changeroom, nobody was around, so he dramatically whipped the door open, only to groan in pain as he stepped on his ankle wrong. Limping the rest of the way in, he stuttered in his step at the sight of the walking sweater-vest, on his back, long limbs sprawled on the bench. At the sound of the door opening, Nygma struggled to seat himself properly.

“Mr. Cobblepot, what are you doing in the girls dressing room?” The way he gazed at Oswald, dark eyes fluttering behind those glasses. That sure made his insides do backflips, was this… the stomach flu? He made a mental note to ask Mother about antacids when he got home later.

“I could point out the fact that you are also in the girls dressing room, lounging on the bench incredibly askance, might I add.” Nygma frowned and looked at his feet.

“I suppose I was quite hypocritical with my initial statement.” Oswald wanted to grab his pot and leave as soon as possible, already shuffling toward the lockers when his eye caught the bag of pills that had fallen out of the others pocket. He froze mid-step, which seemed to draw the nerd out of his embarrassed stupor; he followed Oswald’s gaze, landing on the accidentally dropped drugs. 

The seemingly bland boy had some spice after all. They locked stares for a moment, Nygma’s eyes widening comically, Oswald unable to break the silence. Without saying a word, he turned and continued stumbling towards the locker his stuff had been stashed in as if he couldn’t care less (he was, in fact, having a crisis). 

The creaking of the bench told him Nygma was moving, he grabbed his bottle and turned to leave, catching sight of the boy stretching his leg out to place his foot over the dime bag of pills, as if Oswald hadn’t clearly seen it in the first place. Wasn’t this kid supposed to be smart? He opened his mouth to call him out on it but instead ended up gaping like a fish for a flat thirty seconds. Os hung his head, trying to formulate a response for this dumb ass, and coming up with nothing. When he looked up, this genius was bent over, legs once again crossed, long arms stretched out to grab the bag. This had to end.

“You’re an idiot.” Oswald walked over as suave as he could manage and snatched the drugs from the floor. Nygma gasped at his statement, obviously insulted at the stab to his intelligence. “You do realize I’m not going to report you or anything, I’m literally here to grab some weed I’ve been keeping here since sophomore year.” He waved his own little bottle in front of the boy’s face and tossed the baggie into his lap. “Try stealing my shit, and I’ll shank you,” The sound of the heel of his boots filled the room as he walked away as swiftly as possible.

“Mr. Cobblepot?” He thought about continuing, leaving the kid in silence but he couldn’t bring himself to. Turning to face the lanky idiot, prepared to insult the boy but stopping short when he saw his dumb (his mind was telling him cute, but that seemed improbable) face.

“Please, call me Oswald.” At the unexpectedly friendly response, Nygma grinned, the same wide grin that took over his face when he’d asked Os his riddle about pants, the same blinding smile that had accompanied the facts about punk bands, the same fucking grin he’d watched all play rehearsal. “I’ve just come to the realization I don’t know your full name.”

“Well you know some of it. Nygma, Edward Nygma, but you can call me Ed if you’d like.” Ed extended a hand, button-up shirt riding up on his wrist as he held it out, arm too long for the sleeves. Oswald took his hand and shook twice, smirking the entire time.

“I believe we should talk some more, Ed. I’m intrigued.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOOOOOH This boy is a mess, the next chapter will mainly focus on Ed and Oswald building a friendship. Also get ready for some feels, Gertrud's gonna be back!! We love our queen!!


	4. Two-Player Game/ Is This Friendship?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys finally hang out and we get to see our precious Gertrud, Eddie has a breakdown but so do I,,,, ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW IT'S ONLY BEEN A COUPLE MONTHS, anybody reading this is legally obligated to smite me where I stand. If you are a returning reader, I am so sorry I left you hanging. Thank you so much for sticking with me y'all are the best.  
> ~Hope you enjoy,  
> Jack

The two young men hadn't been sitting together for more than thirty seconds before a soft chiming filled the near-silent locker room. Oswald rolled his eyes and began fishing in his pockets for his cell phone, pulling the offending device free to stare at the caller ID. Ed silently watched over the other's shoulder, smiling at the three little hearts that accompanied Oswald's mothers' picture.

"Hello, Mother-" Although exasperated, Os' tone was full of warmth and affection. "Yes, sorry for not checking in." When the woman on the other end began chastising Oswald, Ed couldn't help but snicker, earning a betrayed look from the boy. He could clearly make out the accented lady asking her son who he was with. "Just another student, he's also in the play," Oswald answered confidently, obviously attempting to end the conversation. "No, it isn't the football player." At this, Ed's head shot up, and Oswald purposely avoided his gaze, blush framing his freckled cheeks. "Probably not... yes," His voice was strained, raising an octave. "I'll call you when I'm on my way, yes, Mom. I can take a bus-" Ed interrupted, holding up a finger.

"I can drive you," Immediately, he regretted his suggestion, driving the other boy home meant the two of them sitting together in his piece of junk PT Cruiser, alone. Nobody would want him driving them home, especially not someone he'd just met. To his surprise, Oswald nodded and smiled, cutting another one of his mother's rants short.

"Ed says he can drive me home. No, I haven't asked," He sighed and turned back to the boy, "Would you like to stay for dinner? Mother is making goulash" His tone was hopeful, something about the way he nervously bit at his nail while he asked, compelled Ed to agree with anything he could have suggested. 

"I'd love to." He tried to convey how much he appreciated the offer with a smile, but it just seemed to make the other blush. Odd.

 

After 15 minutes of Ed sitting awkwardly, listening to Oswald and his mother chatting about some soap opera she'd been watching, they finally wrapped their conversation up. The two boys sat and stared at each other for a moment before Ed realized he should be getting up and leading Os to his car. Shoving his baggie of pills into the back pocket of his khakis, and moving to stand, Ed quickly discovered both his feet were asleep when he fell face-first off the bench. 

"You quite alright?" All Ed could manage in response, from his folded position on the floor, was a weak thumbs up. Soft, breathy laughter reached Ed's ears, and he had to admit, if smashing his face into floor tiles was what it took, he would fall a thousand times to hear it again.

 

A few failed attempts at standing and they were on their way. Os had seen Ed's car before, but when he opened the passenger side door, he was reminded of just how many books were inside. On the seat alone, sat two full-sized novels, an advanced geometry textbook and some philosopher's biography written entirely in German. He'd had to nudge a few more out of the way to rest his backpack on the floor. 

"Sorry about the mess," Ed took the stack of hardcovers from Oswald and placed them delicately in the backseat, which by some miracle only housed a couple of books but mainly comprised of neatly stacked milk crates filled with paper, as well as a substantial collection of comic book and video game paraphernalia. "You can turn the radio on if you'd like, I'm positive there's a decent cd in there."

Oswald swivelled in the seat to face the front again and fiddled with the stereo, before long, the car transformed into one of the malt shops his mother so fondly talked of. It was vaguely familiar, he'd probably heard it in the background of some video he'd seen. Feeling as if he was being watched, Os turned to look at Ed and realized the boy was gauging his reaction to the music. 

"You got an aux cord?" As much as he enjoyed learning what music his gangly counterpart listened to, he was in the mood for a joint and something a little less 'chill.' Ed nodded and leaned over to pop open the glovebox, snatching a bundle of cords and tossing them into Os' lap, who wasted no time in plugging it into his phone and choosing a song that he could thoroughly bop to. As soon as the music filled the car, Edward popped the keys into the ignition and started it up. 

"Where we headed, Mr.Cob- Oswald?" He corrected himself at the last moment, choosing to ignore the way it made the other's eyes light up. 

"Turn left on State Street, and my apartment is a couple of blocks away from 'Knots and Nooks.'" He tried to pick a place that Edward would know, the one that came to mind the fastest was the old bookshop his mother used to take him. Of course, Ed immediately knew where that particular book store was, he'd mapped out the locations of all the shops in Gotham that he had an interest in. 

The sound of his dated turning signal and some fall out boy song were off by precisely a sixteenth of a beat, he began to chat idly to drown out the inconsistent rhythm, trying to ignore the way it made him want to scratch at his legs .

"So I know this is kind of odd, we don't exactly know each other that well," Oswald hummed in agreement. "Would you like to play a game?" 

"I suppose it depends on the game you had in mind," He said with a nervous chuckle, glancing awkwardly at Ed, who was racking his brain for an appropriate game to engage in. 

And like a bus, the answer struck him. 

Flipping open the centre console like his life depended on it, he reached inside and triumphantly pulled out a Nintendo switch, complete with Super Smash Bros. Expecting an equally joyful expression from his new friend, Ed was only met with a disappointed frown. 

"Edward." Os paused to sigh dramatically, "You're driving."

"Ah, yes, that would pose a challenge." He dropped the game system back into the console but continued to smile wickedly. "I suppose I need to… switch… lanes." Not wanting to lose focus on the road but still desiring a reaction from Oswald, he quickly turned his head to see him. There was no expression on the boys face, no discernable emotion aside from complete and utter regret.

 

The two arrived at Oswald's apartment not much later, small talk somewhat held off due to the overwhelming displeasure at Edwards half-assed pun. He pulled into the driveway, confirming with Os that this was, in fact, his home.

"Warning, my mother is clingy, and I know you'll be polite, but don't pester her, please." His face grew dark. Ed nodded and turned off the radio, interrupting some punk rock song he wasn't familiar with. He cut his strides to match Oswald's half shuffle pace, he'd never took notice of how fast he walked before.

The elevator ride was painfully quiet, Os was chewing on his nails, and Ed had to suppress the urge to tell him how unsanitary that habit happened to be. A soft ping dragged him out of his thoughts and he realized that he'd been staring at Os' mouth, he couldn't have exited the elevator any faster. When they reached the correct apartment, Oswald pulled out a key, and none too gently shoved it into the lock. Ed smiled at the sight that was this small boy toeing off his converse shoes and kicking them into the closet as hard as he could. 

"Ozzie, is that you?" A woman with grey hair tied haphazardly on top of her head appeared behind the door; her home sewed apron was patterned with pastel flowers and covered in flour, as were her hands and part of her cheek. The usually sarcastic and quiet Oswald blossomed when he saw his mother, he grinned and hobbled over to her, throwing himself into her arms, not caring if he got dirty. This made Edward feel inexplicably hollow, wondering if this was a normal thing, to come home to your mom and receive nothing but love and pride. He smiled sadly, kneeling to untie his shoes meticulously. The movement caught Oswald's mother's eye, and she kissed her son on the cheek before reluctantly stepping back to look at Ed. "This must be your friend, Edward?" Her voice was heavily accented, but she spoke in a hushed tone as if to soften the inflection.

He stood and reached out a hand to shake hers. "Hi ma'am," Unexpectedly, she drew him in for a hug instead. He was standing there shocked, eyes wide and his arms hovering hesitantly behind her. It was the smallest of movements, but her hand twitched on his back, and he breathed in, a familiar smell flooded his lungs, and he let himself return the embrace. When she pulled back, she grasped his shoulders and smiled. Her eyes were different than her sons, more grey than blue, softened by age but still full of joy and a sense of comfort. "Food is on the stove, and I just put pirozhki in the oven."

"Come on, Edward," Os walked into the kitchen without a glance back, enticed by the promise of dinner. Held back by some feeling of attachment, Ed lowered his head to gaze at the woman, still smiling up at him.

"Thank you, Ms.Kapelput." She lightly tapped his arm and gave him an encouraging shove toward the dining room. 

"Please, call me Gertrud."

 

Edward couldn't help but smile as he walked through the cluttered halls of Oswald's childhood home, picture frames practically made up the wallpaper. Photos from Os' entire life surrounded him, occasionally split up by an odd sentimental trinket or painting.

He followed the smell of a home-cooked meal and found Oswald already eating at the crowded dining table, not crowded with people mind you, but covered with scrapbooks and discarded projects from over the years. It was clear the table was never empty, continually brimming with passion, forgotten and current alike. Two dining spots were carved into the mess. Wandering aimlessly in the kitchen, Ed called out to Oswald for a clue of where to find a bowl he could use, instead the boy shouted something unhelpful through a mouth full of food. 

"Just grab whatever," So Ed did, in his house, they had nothing more than a few pictures of his fathers, work events, fishing trips and football games, nothing of Edward's, nothing decorative. So when he was told to grab a plate, he did. Something clattered behind him, and he turned to see Oswald drop his spoon into the bowl in front of him. "Edward, that's a decorative plate. It was hung on the wall." Ed glanced down at the ceramic in his hands, then back at his friend.

"Oh." He put it back as delicately as possible, "I see." Os hopped up and shuffled over as quickly as possible, whipping open one of the cupboards above the stove and revealing an assortment of plates and bowls. The dishes were from different sets, rescued from years of collecting dust in various thrift stores and garage sales. As with most things Oswald did, he grabbed the nearest bowl roughly and practically threw it into Ed's hands. 

"There you go, now grab some food and come sit down dummy" He stalked back to his bowl and sat down, trying and failing miserably to look menacing. 

Edward saw an opportunity and turned to smile at Oswald, "A piece of silverware, but not a fork. Combined with one, I become a spork. What am I?" It was a childish riddle, but the way it brightened Ed's face quirked something in Os' chest. 

"Will you just grab one and get over here," He smiled, snatched a spoon from the counter and ran to go sit with Os at the table. 

The two were eating in comfortable silence, Ed was savouring every bite, it wasn't often he got to eat with good company. The scent of baking slowly filled the house, and he happily chuckled as he pushed his glasses up on his face. Gertrud came in with her bowl and shoved aside some things to sit with them. 

"Tell me about yourself, Edward. How long have you known my boy?" She smiled and toyed with her spoon, Ed couldn't do anything but sit there. He hadn't thought that just being around somebody else mother could reduce him to an inanimate blob of feelings. With a rough swallow, he tried to come up with the most common explanation for his life and the events leading up to his introduction to Oswald.

"Well, I live with my father, in the East end of the city. He's a contractor." He tried looking to Oswald for help, but the boy seemed enamoured with his goulash. "Os and I met a few days ago, I accidentally tripped over him, as odd as that seems." Gertrud laughed, and his world tore apart for a moment. Crud, would it be weird if he just burst into tears? Probably. Dang. 

 

He had been quite content just eating his mother's cooking, but when Ed made that noise, it seemed worthy of his attention. What had his mum said to get him to make that strangled sound? Honestly, it sounded as if the boy was being tortured. Placing his spoon delicately in the bowl and glancing up, all he could focus on was how pained Ed looked. Did he not like the food? Oh shit, did his mother say something horrifying? He should have been listening. Now Edward would never come over again, and his one chance at a healthy friendship was ruined. 

"Edward?" Os knew that tone of voice, his mother thought she did something wrong, this seemed to draw the terrified kid out of his stupor, and he feigned a smile. The boy was a horrible fake. It was enough to fool Gertrud, though, as she jumped up with a grin, remembering something in the other room and abandoning her barely touched food to attend to it.

"So, what was that about?" Oswald hissed through his teeth, propping his chin up, on the one hand, the other gesturing vaguely at Ed, who just stared at him with those warm brown eyes. Unexpectedly, tears flowed over their brims, and suddenly, Edward was crying. He had no idea how to deal with this, the last time he had to help someone that was crying it was after his mother had drunk too much and set off on a rant about how he deserved better than her. This was different, this was a boy he barely knew that he longed to know more about, crying over nothing at his dining room table. "Hey, Eddie," He tentatively reached out toward the boy, taking Ed's hand in his and attempting to pull him out of his break down. As if Ed hadn't noticed Os reaching toward him, he flinched at the contact and sobbed harder. When he heard his mother's footsteps, he panicked. Dragging Ed out of his seat and shoving him into his bedroom.

 

Suddenly arriving in the unfamiliar environment caused Ed to stop crying for a moment and look around. The room was filled wall to wall with band posters, and an insane quantity of participation awards. Growing from the baseboard and stretching around the corners of the small space were patterns and doodles sketched carefully in sharpie. Absentmindedly, Edward traced a small loop, distracting himself from the ache that lay ever-present in his chest.

He sighed, avoiding Oswald's eyes. "That was an overreaction. I apologize,"

"You're telling me. You broke down in front of my mother, Ed." At the mention of Ms. Kapelput, Edward shuddered. "Did you want to leave? It's not hard to make a quick excuse-" Ed cut him off, violently shaking his head. 

"I can't go home, if you want me out of your hair, I can spend the night in my car." That took Os by surprise, did Ed think he was going to cast him to the curb at the first sign of trouble? The two seemed to be at an impassè, both of them being incredibly stubborn and sucking at reading social cues. Before they could continue with their struggle, Gertrud knocked on the door. 

"Ozzie, did your friend leave?" 

 

"No, mother. I thought I'd show Ed my room." He strained, voice full of exasperation. Edward giggled, too emotional to repress the giddy laughter after his meltdown.

"I was just wondering if you two might want dessert?" Mental breaks be damned; the promise of baked goods was too good to pass up on. A quick look to Os and they were out the door faster than you could say 'emotionally unstable.' Gertrud stood by the counter, a steaming plate of pastries in one hand and a massive bottle of red wine in the other. With an overwhelming air of nonchalance, Oswald strut (as much as the boy could) toward his mother and snagged both of the treats. 

"You don't mind if we take this to my room, right?" Gertrud shook her head and smiled, Ed trailed awkwardly behind Os and disappeared into the latters room after a tiny wave to their hostess. After he had closed the bedroom door behind him, he swung around to face his friend, only to be met with Oswald sprawled across the top half of his bed, half of a pirozhki in his mouth and struggling to open the wine. He gave up and yanked open the drawer in his bedside table and pulled out a corker. 

Ed almost spat at the sight, Os was chugging the wine. "Woah," At the reminder that his friend was still there, Oswald stopped and set down the bottle and his snacks.

"Oops. Come on, don't just stand there. I won't bite," He chuckled softly, gesturing to the space in front of him. Ed walked over, gingerly sitting on the edge of the bed only to have an almost full bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon thrown into his arms. "Oh don't be like that, I barely drank any, there are plenty more bottles in the kitchen."

The liquid swirled around, a few drops spattering his jeans. Oh, screw it. He knocked his head back and let the drink slip down his throat.

 

Oswald stared unabashedly at the line of Ed's throat, the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed, the dips above his collarbones. Usually, a couple of sips of wine wouldn't affect him, but he wasn't drinking alone. At least, he wasn't just drinking with his mother. She was a great parent, despite her allowing and enabling Os' drinking. It was her way of making sure he didn't go out and drink somebody else's tainted beer only to find himself half-dead in a ditch. As long as he wasn't getting himself killed, a few bottles of Merlot didn't quite seem like that big of a deal. 

"I feel like I must be honest with you," Oswald snapped back to reality and was met with Ed's face only a couple of inches from his own. "I've never drank before."

Shit. 

"Well we have two options here," He paused to pinch the bridge of his nose, face screwed up in thought. "Either I do the responsible thing and help you home before you drink more." At this point, the boy had only had about a quarter of bottle and blush already flourished on his cheeks. 

"Or?" He had that insane grin on his face, the one that shifted his cheekbones to frame his young, bright eyes. Os might be the one with the light eyes, but Eddie's just called to you, drew you in. It was like he hadn't seen anything terrible, every happy moment seemed to get caught in those beautiful mosaics of amber and mahogany. "Oswald? What's option B?" He sighed, staring down at where Edward's hands were planted on either side of him.

"I get you drunk, and we go have fun like good little teenagers,"

"This is the beginning of the end of the human race." Ed huffed and sat back on his shins.

"Is that a yes, Mr. Straight-Laced nerd?" He held out the bottle, Edward seemed to contemplate it for a second, hesitating to reach out his hand.

"Nerd? I thought I was more of a geek." With that, he delicately took the wine and lifted it to his lips. "Bottoms up, I suppose-"

 

"So you're telling me-" Edward swung around, red liquid sloshing dangerously in the glass. "That you believe in ghosts?" Oswald, who was significantly more sober, nodded.

"When I was 11, I saw a ghost standing beside my bed." Os leaned back and smirked, "The sight runs in the family. My mum has it too."

"The sight?" He had to dodge Os' foot as it came much too close to smacking him in the face. "Newsflash Oswald-" Ed paused for dramatic effect, "GHOSTS AREN'T REAL."

 

They'd gone through an entire bottle when Ed pulled out his Nintendo switch again.  
"It's a two-player game?" The two smiled at each-other, and Os pressed the power button. "So, hypothetically, if that girl Ivy gave me a super-powerful study drug-"

"You should take it. It's basically just a brain steroid on steroids."

"What's her deal anyway?" Ed usually paid close attention to his classmates, but he hadn't been able to discern anything about the bubbly girl and her other half. "Is she dating that Zac kid?" Oswald just looked at him, obviously trying to figure out who Zac was.

"Oh, Zsasz," Os managed to grab a powerup in Mario Cart as he said it, and not being able to focus on two things at once in his, quite drunken state, he practically shouted the word. 

"Bless you," Ed, who was also, pretty wasted, thought he had sneezed. Oswald, once again, just stared at him. 

"I said Zsasz. Ivy's 'other half,' his name is Zsasz." The two of them at this point were just looking at each other with glazed over eyes. "Technically his name is Victor, but there's another kid who used to go to middle school with us named Victor, so they both started going by their last names" Ed nodded in agreement but in actuality he had heard about 30% of what Oswald had said; Os noticed he had been ranting and quickly tried to recover. "What was the question?" 

"Umm-" His mind was going blank but he retraced his mental path and he remembered. "OH, What's up with Ivy and Zsasz?"

"Basically Ivy is a botany geek, she grows a whole bunch of plants and she and this freshman kid Jonathan experiment with making drugs." He'd only ever spoken to Crane once, of course, they were mutuals on pretty much every form of social media, but aside from liking his aesthetic photos of that Tetch kid, they really didn't talk. "I always thought that Ivy did it alone, but Jon is like, super into science. I'm just glad she never asked me, I love her like a sister, but I'm not the best with the core classes." 

Edward knew about Jonathan Crane. The two had been at war last science fair, Jon had his booth on 'The Science of Fear' whereas Ed had worked all month on 'The Cerebrum + What it Does". The two had been so focused on beating each other that it became violent. Professor Strange had to remove them both from consideration, and some sophomore won with a Pavlov experiment. 

"Zsasz and I have known each other for years. We both went to the same summer camp in 5th grade. So when Ivy joined our little pod, I wasn't too surprised that they clicked." Oswald looked off fondly, and Ed had to push down the jealousy at the mention of friends. "They aren't dating and they never will, but they work together so well. It's like they're an old married couple."

"So they... aren't dating?" 

"Nope, Zsasz is aromantic. He jokes about being in love with her, but his friendship with Ivy is strictly platonic." Oh, well, that was news to Ed, he never really read into people's sexualities. This pause was seemingly too long for Oswald as he started to fidget nervously. "You're cool with not straight people, right?" Os stuttered his way through the sentence and blushing furiously the entire time. 

"Obviously yeah, I'm super okay with it." Oswald sighed with relief, but Edward wouldn't meet his eye, and that set off red flags. 

"I sense a but." This was just his luck, he finally finds a fun friend, and it turns out to be one of those fucking homophobes. He might have to kick this kid out of his house if this conversation didn't end well.

"No!" Ed shook his head violently, he couldn't believe Os thought he was anti-gay. "I've just never been asked that before." He was desperately trying to find a way to change this conversation before his drunk brain derailed it and started him down a whole new path of self-discovery.

"Oh, that's good. Anyways-" Their conversation began again, and Ed chuckled to himself, he's lucky Oswald liked to talk. "Like I said earlier, you should take it, Ivy would never put in anything that would hurt someone, she's pretty against confrontation."

Edward nodded, maybe he would. Couldn't hurt, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I projected onto both of them way too much but y'all aren't here to listen to me rant about my problems so thank you for reading this and hopefully I'll see you in the next chapter. Coming soon to an AO3 near you  
> ~Cheers,  
> Jack
> 
> Edit: Just realized the chapters haha 4/20 (I have the humour of a toddler)


	5. The Squip Enters/Ed Might Need a Therapist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically Ed goes through his seventeenth crisis of the week, just some routine panic and pain for the lad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is much too late and much too short but the next couple chapters are going to be hectic and posted more frequently than I've been posting, oops. 
> 
> ~Jack   
> ps. Thanks for sticking with me y'all, 2019 was probably the worst year of my life but here's to hoping that 2020 will be better and full of fic updates for you <3

Noon came and went, and Gertrud hadn’t heard anything from Oswald and his friend. Edward seemed like a nice boy, although she didn’t know what to make of him. Gertrud wasn’t as clueless as her son thought. An upbeat knock on the front door stirred her from her thoughts, and she got up to see who it was.

“Morning, Ms.Kapelput, any chance Ozzie is home?” It was that young redheaded girl, and she brought flowers! It’s always a delight when Ivy stops by the apartment. Gertrud nodded and pointed toward Oswald’s room. She’s glad her son found some good friends, things aren’t the easiest for him at highschool. She knows Ed will be a great addition to the gang, but she worries, there’s something wrong with the boy, a sadness that she’s not quite sure she or her son could help with.

Ivy skipped down the hall toward Oswald’s room, she was well aware of the fact that he really doesn’t like unannounced visitors but what’s the worst that could happen, she could use a little time with him. She whipped the door open excitedly and almost squealed at what she saw. 

Oswald wasn’t alone in his bed, he was wrapped around a tall, shirtless boy that was wearing a pair of pyjama pants that were clearly too small for him. One of them was snoring, Ivy couldn’t discern which. Something told her that this should be documented, but as she pulled out her phone, her wallet fell out of her pocket and hit the ground with a thud. The boy woke with a start, lifting his head to make eye contact with Ivy. It was that Edward kid she’d met yesterday afternoon. He looked terrified, glancing down at his arm that was tightly wrapped around Oswald, whose head was resting on Ed’s bare chest, then back to her. 

“Stop wiggling around, you’re making it very hard to sleep.” So Ozzie was conscious after all. This would be fun.

“Mornin’ bud, you sleep okay?” Now, this seemed to light a fire under sleeping beauty’s ass. Oswald pushed himself up and off of the half-naked Edward and swung around to stare at Ivy incredulously. 

“YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” God could Oswald screech. 

“You kiss your mama with that mouth?” She knew she better start running, but this was absolutely incriminating, better than that one time she’d found love poems written out to Jim Gordon. It was when Oz actually started to get out of the bed that Ivy decided to make her escape. “Bye, Ms.Kapelput! It was delightful seeing you!”

 

Breakfast was phenomenal, but it just seemed like Oswald wanted him out of the house. Edward supposed that was okay, he was a little worried that he’d embarrassed him with Ivy, although it wasn’t his fault they’d ended up sleeping that way. Rather than go back home and face his father, Ed decided to go to the mall and grab some food, it didn’t have anything to do with the fact that Kristin Kringle would be working there today. As he popped in the car, he reached for the CD he kept between the driver’s seat and the console, Amy Winehouse. He tossed it in the slot and skipped ahead to his favourite songs. The drive was pleasant, bobbing his head rhythmically to the classics and going as far as singing the good ones under his breath. Ed was in a surprisingly good mood, but as he shifted his PT Cruiser into park, he felt the baggie in his trouser pocket. The pills he’d been given, he had forgotten about them, all of yesterday was hazy from the drinks he’d had. What was the harm in taking one? Oswald had said Ivy could be trusted, and he believed him. As he shut the door to his van, he bit down on the capsule and breathed deeply, what could go wrong?

He had made it halfway across the parking lot before he remembered he should probably take his other meds. Jogging back to the car he tallied what he was supposed to take today, a couple of disorders had come with his Asperger’s, like ADHD, mild schizophrenia, OCD, severe anxiety, and BPD. His father encouraged his medication, thinking it would make him a more suitable son, so he allowed him to regularly visit the pharmacist and refill his prescriptions. Ed rifled through the console, searching for the bag that held his medications, eventually finding it and sorting the pills he needed to take. When he grabbed the bottle that held his schizophrenia drugs it was empty, he’d forgotten to refill them and had missed 3 doses. Crud. Well, too late now. He’d be fine for the afternoon, and he’d stop at the pharmacy on the way home. 

There she was, Kristin Kringle. She was more beautiful than ever in her donut shop uniform. So he decided to get a donut and some hot chocolate.   
“Kristin Kringle! Hello!” He’d walked up to the counter and smiled at her. She stared back at him in confusion.  
“How do you know my name?” His face fell at this, he thought she’d at least recognize him with the amount of pummeling her boyfriend gave him.  
“Edward, Nygma, we go to school together. I helped you organize your workbook?” He was pretty disheartened, but then her eyes widened, and he got his hopes up.  
“Oh, you, it took me weeks to fix my binder after you messed it up.” That… was not the response he’d been hoping for. He wanted to rake his nails down his legs, bite his tongue, do anything to stop the way his mind was making him feel. Maybe coming here instead of getting his meds hadn’t been a smart idea.   
“But your system was completely random, subjects everywhere. I arranged it more the way a peat moss organism grows,” He pushed his glasses up on his nose with a knuckle. “You know, laterally!” He flourished his hands, trying to smile at her despite feeling lightheaded and anxious. His breathing had gotten rapid, his hands were sweating, and the edges of his vision began to darken. This was different than his usual panic attacks, the ones that came quick and had a trigger, this felt like he was burning from the inside, a slow descent towards something much worse.

And then Edward heard it, or more precisely, him. 

He’d never actually heard him before, only just an understanding of his existence. They were commonly called alters, dissociative identity disorder, stemming from trauma built in his system at a young age. This one took the pain when he couldn’t bear it, protecting him.   
“What’s got two eyes and can’t see?” Ed whipped around to see him standing there, dressed in a deep emerald green suit, bowler hat and a smirk that made Edward’s breath hitch in his chest. He dropped to the floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to note, in this fic Ed has Asperger's and is on the autism spectrum. Additionally, he has ADHD, OCD, BPD, anxiety and some minor schizophrenia. He's basically just a bundle of trauma and I wish I could give him a hug. He'll go through hell and back in this fic but I hope you guys enjoyed the hint of Nygmobblepot at the beginning :]
> 
> ~Jack

**Author's Note:**

> "GAAAAYYYYYY"


End file.
